The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 21:17:30 -

The fog in Lyon did not roll in; it descended like a shroud of wet wool, thick and suffocating, pressing against the stone walls of the cathedral until the spires vanished into a grey nothingness that smelled of rot and old rain. Sir Aldric, a man of thirty-two years whose armor had seen too many winters and not enough rest, stood on the narrow balcony of the inn, watching the street below...

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